Royce seemed to sense her needs. He covered her with his big body, shoved up her layers of skirts, and settled himself between her thighs. She spread herself wider and felt his hardened length probing for entrance.
His hands gripped her buttocks; he lifted her up, and in one deep, powerful thrust, he drove himself inside. Katherine moaned at the feel of it. She clung to his muscular shoulders and arched to meet each diving stroke.
In minutes, he was carrying her to the peak of sanity, pounding into her with wild, frantic thrusts, urging her higher and higher. She felt a wild need to be joined with him, to be one with him, and to never let him go.
Royce's body grew tense, and the rhythm of his movements increased. Katherine's head fell back, she sank her nails into the ridges of muscle across his back, and she writhed against him. When she could bear the sweet torture no longer, she cried out his name and soared over the edge.
